Your erotic stories

My Name is Robert Walsh and I have been through some significant transformations in my life and I need to tell someone about them; "I need to tell my story". How it began... I am 49 years old now, but this all began for me about 39 years ago when I was a boy living with my mom in a 1 bedroom apartment in the basement of the Babylon Shores Motel. I didn't know this at the time but my mom had been divorced because my dad had caught her several times in our house screwing her boss "Lenny".

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I am a manager at a local manufacturing firm and spend most days at the factory, working in the office or walking round the shop floor. I enjoy the work but often wish I could get out more and meet different people. I was therefore delighted when my boss suggested I might go to London to meet some customers and visit their factory. It would involve spending a night in a hotel, something I rarely got the chance to do.

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I closed my eyes and tried to relax as I lay face down on the massage table with only a sheet covering my bare naked ass. The masseuse's strong hands felt amazing as he kneaded my tired flesh but my mind reeled as I struggled with the strange primal desires dancing within me. I had never in my life entertained a gay thought but his hands felt so good and erotic on my bare skin that I found myself wondering what it would be like to touch his naked body. 

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I had to take care of some business on the other side of town and on the way home I decided to stop at the ABS where my first couple cock sucking experiences took place. It was still a little before noon when I stopped in but I thought I might be able to catch some of the lunch time crowd. When I pulled in the parking lot there were several cars but not as many as I had expected. I guess the gas prices are taking a toll on all kinds of businesses. 

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The photographs are exquisite. A portrait of a young man, his tattooed shoulders bared and soft brows furrowed as he takes a drag from a cigarette. The same man crouching, doubled over, a black sock-clad foot pressing into his back.

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The young man in the story is 19 years old. This story begins in a bathroom at Washington Park in 1973... * Chapter One: Roaming eyes. I was minding my own affairs, just taking a leak in the men's room in the park, when it came to my attention that I had an audience down at the other end of the long through urinal. I glanced over, and saw that it was a guy that had been sitting on the side of the hill watching us work.

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Brock Barry Peterson was the handsomest man I had ever seen. He was over six feet tall and had smooth clear skin, blue blue eyes and white white wavy hair. He was always impeccably dressed in expensive well-tailored suits, crisp ironed shirts, and tastefully colored ties. He wore a special cologne. I don't know what it was, but it was heady. Sitting across from his desk, taking instructions, I was breathing in his aroma and getting absolutely intoxicated.

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Ricky is simply a superb lover. He treats me to the best sexual experiences I have ever had. I get throbbing hard and dreamy-eyed when I think about having Ricky inside me. This is an account of how it goes down when we get together for some fun. Usually we'll chill on a Friday night at home, have a few cold Coronas and pop in a video. We like to kick back on Ricky's black leather sofa, usually just in athletic shorts, no underwear.

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It was the summer of 1976 and I was vacationing with my family in one of several log cabins that were part of an aging camp constructed in the Thirties on the shore of Lake Michigan. Each morning after breakfast I would set out combing the endless beach collecting stones and driftwood, enjoying the waves rolling over my bare feet.

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Chad, breathing easily and looking mighty fine for a man of thirty-seven, ended his run at his usual bench beside a tool house in the remote Myrtle Beach park tucked into a golf course almost within sight of the ocean enough for most not to realize it was a separate public park. As usual, he ran in just athletic shorts and running shoes.

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